


Naught

by TheArtisticIntrovert



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: also amana and bakura's mom are mentioned for like two paragraphs, going up until the point that zero stopped (where the monster world chapter of season 0 started), i'm sorry bakura's dad doesn't have a name i don't think, they don't really do much tho, this is basically the ygo realistic au except from the bakuras' pov this time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2018-11-13 20:29:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11192808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArtisticIntrovert/pseuds/TheArtisticIntrovert
Summary: Being possessed isn't easy for anybody.It's a lot harder when you're only nine years old.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> did bakura get the ring when he was seven or nine i can't remember.

There were a lot of things Bakura Ryou could say about his father, and a lot of them were not very _nice_ things, especially considering he was just a small child. He still loved his dad. Even when his parents fought, he loved them both. Even when he and Amane would huddle up in their room, a pile of tangled limbs and tears, he loved his parents. Even when they separated, and ultimately divorced, he loved his dad.

 

He didn’t love his dad so much when he got his mother and Amane _killed._

 

He could remember like it was yesterday.

 

\--

 

_He watched from behind the banister as his mother, red-faced and tight-lipped, wrestled Amane into her coat and shoes. She had asked if he wanted to come with her, but that had sparked another argument, something about “custody-stealing bitches”, whatever that meant. So, she just took Amane. For some reason, his dad had been less mad about that. Ryou didn’t understand most of the reasons, nobody ever explained anything to him._

 

_He passed the rest of the night in a haze, the slamming of the front door playing on loop in his memory, until it clicked open again. He abandoned his drawing and raced down the steps, a bad feeling in his chest, when he stopped dead in the hallway. Standing at the door were two figures, not his family, but the police. They were talking in low tones to his dad, but by the worn, haggard expressions on their faces, Ryou knew it was nothing good._

 

_He did manage to catch the words “accident”, “drunk driver”, and “sorry”, which he managed to piece together into a very not-good picture._

 

_Suddenly, the horrible chill in his chest made sense._

 

_His mother and Amane were dead. Dead, because his father drove them out._

 

_In that moment, his heart hardened. He swore that he wouldn’t care about anyone anymore, not anyone living. They’d all just leave you in the end._

 

\--

 

He was pretty sure that it was that moment that solidified his love of all things occult. That maybe, just maybe, if he found the right thing......he could talk to them one more time. Apologize for not making them stay, for not coming with them. Apologize for being the one that lived, when they both deserved it so much more than he did.

 

His father grew distant, moreso than he had when Amane and Ryou’s mom were alive. He kept leaving on business trips to different museums around the world, sometimes bringing Ryou with him. He’d never forget the trip to Egypt when he was seven, when everything changed forever.

 

When he first found the Ring.

 

\--

 

He’d slept for three thousand years and then some, plagued with nightmare upon memory, until it all jumbled together and he couldn’t remember what was real anymore. He remembered pain, fire, blood, and gold. He remembered darkness, and hunger, and two malicious red eyes.

 

He remembered a burning rage, a desire for revenge, and a pharaoh, but not much more than that. Then, he remembered greed. A desire to possess, to own, to destroy. Not his, but burning hands gripping him tightly in sweaty palms. He remembered lashing out, until....

 

Until.

 

Cold hands cradling him gently, like he was something precious. It stirred something inside of him he forgot he even had, something..... _something._ He didn’t know.

 

He didn’t know a lot of things.

 

The cold hands soothed the burning rage into a simmer, a low boil. Something that could be set aside for a later date, something to be planned for. The eyes were angry, and the darkness was _so hungry._

 

But still, he waited.  He ignored the wailing of the memories, the hunger of the shadows, and the pain promised by those eyes. He ignored it all, squeezing his eyes shut and clamping his hands over his ears, until suddenly.......a light burst through the darkness.

 

A light he followed like it held the secret to life.

 

And apparently, it did.

 

\--

 

He woke up short. That was the first thing that popped into his head. He knew that this wasn’t _his_ body, but as he couldn’t remember what _his_ body looked like, he had to make do. The small, pale hands jarred him, a persistent memory of warm brown skin and small, pale scars pushing at the back of his mind. Yet, he ignored it.

 

He couldn’t remember all of who he used to be, so he had to make do with who he was _now._

 

It took some doing, but he figured out how to navigate in this new, solid body. The feeling of sight, of touch, of _knowing_ something other than darkness and hunger was novel, and he reveled in it. He raced around the living area he was in, so different, yet so familiar, to what he was used to.

 

A man, tall, tanner, and dark haired, was sitting at a table in what he assumed was the lounging area. A fuzzy memory of hatred and half-heard words surfaced at the sight of him, and he stopped dead. This was........his father? No, the _body’s_ father.

 

He had to remember that.

 

He backed up quickly, footsteps light and silent, until he made it back to the stairs he’d woken up by. On the floor was a half-finished drawing, crayons scattered next to it. He crouched down next to it, startling back when the necklace he’d hardly noticed brushed against the paper. He frowned, grabbing it to take a closer look.

 

It was pretty big, about the size of his hands, if he put them together. It was gold and circular, with the middle cut out and replaced by a triangle. An Egyptian-style eye was impressed upon the triangle, and five long spikes dangled off the bottom of the outer ring. He frowned, squinting at it. It seemed......familiar, and not in a good way. The flashes of gold and fire and blood returned and he startled back, dropping the ring. It thumped against his chest gently, the impact lessened by the thick sweater he wore.

 

He ripped the cord off over his head and tossed the necklace away, immediately feeling dizzy. Apparently the necklace.....no, the Ring, was key in keeping him awake.

 

Good to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some things to note before we continue:
> 
> pointy bakura has snatches of memory. he can remember very little about when he was alive, only enough to get a vague sense of what's going on, and a slight advantage over pointy yuugi, who knows literally nothing.
> 
> i've never read the milleniumn world arc. i've finished up to the end of duel monsters and stopped. stuff will be wrong. i'm not reading a whole manga that i don't want to for the sake of accuracy. fight me.
> 
> this story follows from bakura's early childhood onward, expanding upon the backstory chapter i put in Zero, yuugi's version of the realistic au main fic.
> 
> bakura is ryou. when i say bakura in the notes, i mean ryou. yami no bakura is pointy bakura. following? good.
> 
> bakura is a few months younger than yuugi, but they're still in the same year at school.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this took a while to get out and i apologize, i ended up having to rewrite a bit bc i hated how it was going. some big timeskips, but like now we're at the part i really wanted to write

He was used to spacing out. It was the winter holidays, after all, and time never felt real when you didn’t have a schedule to keep. He wasn’t, however, used to literally  _ falling unconscious.  _ He’d started out drawing, a hand pressed against the Ring to keep it in place, and woke up in a crumpled heap on the floor with the Ring halfway across the room.

 

Obviously, he’d immediately crawled over to get it back.

 

He frowned, staring at the gold clutched in his hands. Something weird was going on, but he couldn’t quite puzzle out  _ what  _ yet. He shook his head, slipping the cord back over his head. “You know, I heard a story once that there was a spirit, or a curse, or something on this Ring...” he said softly, speaking out loud to make himself feel less alone. (He wouldn’t admit it, but he was also talking to the spirit, in case it  _ did  _ exist.) “I wonder if they were true? It’d be nice to have a friend, someone who’s always with me.....I wish I could have a friend I could play with forever, but we move too much for that. It’d be nice to have someone to protect me, too......Threats of curses can only go so far, before they lose the effect.”

 

The gold warmed under his hands, pulsing like it was trying to reassure him. Then, he decided it must’ve been a trick. He’d been holding it for a while, after all. Maybe it had just been his own body heat he’d felt.

 

\--

 

The blackouts kept coming, more frequent now. They came with headaches, and nearly always after someone had been mean to him. They kept moving, but the blackouts and headaches kept coming, always whenever a new bully had decided to make him a target. Most times, they didn’t stay more than a month in one city, but then they moved to Columbia, Missouri when he was twelve.

 

Then, he met Andrew Young.

 

Andrew was a bit older than him, but only by a couple months. He was in Ryou’s math class, and once punched Henry Fallow when he made fun of Ryou’s hair. However, he still didn’t approach Andrew. He wanted to be his friend, sure. He just didn’t know how to go about it.

 

Every time he’d worked up the courage to talk to Andrew, something always happened, or the time wasn’t right, or he ended up talking himself out of it. Eventually, he resigned himself to finishing seventh grade friendless and alone, and stopped trying.

 

It wasn’t until late December, near the end of the semester, that he finally talked to Andrew.

 

Actually, Andrew talked to him. He’d plopped himself down next to Ryou at lunch, having somehow found out about the little alcove Ryou sat in by himself. “Hey.” Ryou ignored him at first, not realizing he was being spoken to. “Yo, dude. I don’t know your name but you’re in my math class?”

 

Ryou blinked, finally looking up. “H-ha? You mean me?” he asked, disbelievingly. Andrew nodded, a tiny, sort of amused smile on his face.

 

“Yeah, I mean you! I’ve seen you around, but I haven’t really gotten the chance to talk to you! You’re there one minute and gone the next, you’re like a ghost or somethin’!” he laughed, raking a hand through his hair. He had green tips, Ryou noted. They looked really cool, actually.

 

“Well, that wouldn’t be the first time.....although people usually say that because I’m ‘so pale I just fade into the background’,” he said, a weak attempt at a joke. Andrew seemed to find it funny though.

 

“Ha! They have a point, but nah, you’re just a hard dude to find. Hey, by the way, totally forgot! What’s your name?” he asked, sitting back on his haunches and looking at Ryou expectantly. A foam tray sat in front of him, holding a soggy-looking slice of pizza and an apple.

 

“Uhm, I’m Ryou. You’re Andrew, right?” he asked. Andrew nodded, beaming.

 

“Yup, that’s me! Ryou, huh? Sounds Asian. Japanese?” he asked. Ryou nodded, shrugging slightly. “Cool! I’m half Korean myself, on my mom’s side!” Andrew said proudly. “Welcome to this school’s really tiny Asian squad, Ryou! Actually, make that the really tiny colored kids squad, there’s not many of us here....”

 

Ryou blinked, confused. “W-What do you mean? Squad? What???” he asked. He didn’t quite have a solid grasp on English idioms yet, despite being fluent since he was about nine. Andrew stopped, shocked.

 

“You know, like a group? A group of people, kids use it for their friend groups,” he explained. Badly, but he still tried. Ryou nodded in understanding, relaxing a bit.

 

“Sorry, I’m not good at slang or idioms, especially newer ones....I’m working on it, but I don’t spend time with many kids my age in general, let alone ones who speak English fluently,” he apologized. Andrew waved a hand, shooing away Ryou’s concerns.

 

“Oh, it’s no problem! I like teaching people!” Ryou smiled slightly, relaxing further. “Anyway, I think lunch is almost over. Come on, I’ll walk with you to math!”

 

\--

 

And just like that, Ryou and Andrew became best friends. Andrew introduced Ryou to his other friends, inviting him over for game nights, and even started teaching him more about the newer slang. There was one kid that Ryou hadn’t been introduced to, another really sad looking kid who by all rights should have been in the “squad”.

 

He seemed really volatile though, one minute hunching in on himself and the next screaming at teachers in History. Honestly, he scared Ryou a bit. But then he found him cornered behind the school by three bigger boys, probably eighth graders or freshmen. Ryou didn’t want to get involved. He really should have just walked away, left it alone. He didn’t want to make himself a target again, not now. He’d just clawed his way out from the bottom of the social ladder, he didn’t want to get kicked back to the bottom.

 

But the kid was cowering away, and one of the boys was raising a fist threateningly, and Ryou found himself seized with a stupid, reckless courage. “H-Hey! Leave him alone!” he yelled.

 

The boys turned slightly, raising an eyebrow when they all saw Ryou, a skinny, nerdy-looking seventh grader, instead of someone their age. The biggest, whom Ryou assumed was the leader, sneered at him. “Get outta here, kid. We’re just havin’ a chat with Johnson over here!” he snapped, before shooting Ryou the nastiest glare he could muster.

 

Ryou gulped, knees shaking slightly. “N-No you’re not! I saw you raising your fist, you were gonna hit him!” he argued. He balled his hands into fists, nails digging into his palms. Johnson tried to run, but one of the others grabbed him by the arm, forcing him back against the wall. Johnson shook his head frantically, muttering something Ryou couldn’t hear.

 

“I said, GET OUT OF HERE! Unless you wanna take his place? I mean, maybe he’d learn not to be so fucking weird if he saw what it did to other people! He’s  _ dangerous,  _ we’re trying to teach him a lesson!” the leader argued. Johnson was shooting Ryou a pleading glance now. 

 

“No!  _ You’re  _ the dangerous ones, he never did anything to you! Go away!” Ryou screamed back, rushing the boys. He swung a fist blindly, not expecting his wrist to be caught in a vice grip. The boy punched him hard in the stomach, forcing the air out of his lungs. Ryou coughed, eyes bugging out of his head. The spikes of his Ring dug into his stomach, nearly drawing blood.

 

He was getting dizzy again. Everything was going black. Not again......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> andrew and johnson (first name aaron) are two of my ocs. thought it would help flesh the story out a bit, especially since the next couple chapters take place in america and not japan


	3. Chapter 3

He opened his eyes to a smirking face above him, someone he’d never seen before. Quickly, he took stock of his surroundings, realizing that his idiot host had gotten into another fight. His face twisted into a scowl, teeth bared as he caught his breath. “Go on kid, run away! I told you, we’re teaching him a lesson!” the biggest boy snapped. He rolled his eyes, grabbing the boy by the shirt and tugging him down to look him in the eye.

 

“And I told you to  _ leave him alone. _ You fucked with the wrong person,” he hissed, voice cold and poisonous. The boy paled, seeming to realize this wasn’t the same boy he had been dealing with. Bakura punched the boy in the face, dropping him and sneering at the other two. They quickly ran away, shouting something about a Dr. Koller. The boy got up, wiping the blood from his split lip. All his attention was focused on Bakura now. Good.

 

The boy they’d been surrounding took off, heading back towards the school as fast as he could. “What the fuck was that for?!” the boy snapped, glaring at Bakura. He laughed, high pitched and manic.

 

“What you deserved! Now come on, you wanna play a game?” he asked, leering. The boy looked paler now, taking on the color of soggy oatmeal, backing away. Bakura followed, grinning sickly. The boy turned tail and ran, following his coward friends. Bakura watched him go, before sighing and pushing his hair away from his face. He frowned, running his tongue over his teeth.

 

There was something on them, but it didn’t taste like food. He poked the whatever-it-was, eyes widening when he felt metal and rubber. These hadn’t been here when he’d last been awake. He scowled, heading for home. At least he knew enough of his host’s memories to get home from the school.

 

\--

 

When he got there, he immediately went to his host’s father’s computer, pulling up the web browser. His first search (“why is there metal on my teeth”) came up with nothing. His next search (“why is there metal and rubber on my teeth”) was more promising. He scrolled down a bit, eyebrows furrowing when he saw a link titled “Parts of Braces”.

 

He clicked on it, paling when he read the definitions. “He got fucking  _ braces?!”  _ he snarled, pushing back from the computer and pacing angrily. “How the fuck am I supposed to be intimidating with  _ braces!”  _ He screamed in frustration, punching the wall over and over until dust flaked off the drywall and blood coated his knuckles.

 

“Ryou? Is that you?” He stiffened, pausing just inches from hitting the wall again.

 

“Uh.....Yes?” he replied, confused. How did his host normally respond to his father?! Although, now that he thought about it, why was his  _ (Ryou’s!)  _ father home right now anyway?! Shouldn’t he be at work?

 

“Keep it down in there, okay? Make sure to do your homework, too.” Bakura blinked, agreeing absently. Homework? How was he supposed to do  _ homework?  _ It’s not like he paid attention in Ryou’s classes, not the boring ones at least. Really, he only paid attention in the History, Health, and PE classes. He sighed, opened the notes program, and got typing.

 

When he was finished, he took the cord of the Ring from around his neck and laid it on the desk, letting himself fade back into blackness.

 

\--

 

He woke up at home. For a moment, he thought that the boy at school had hit him hard enough to knock him out, but then he realized he was sitting in front of his father’s computer, Ring laid on the desk in front of him. He frowned and put it on again, biting his lip.

 

One of the spikes nudged the mouse, waking up the computer again. He blinked, confused, when he noticed a note written in clumsy Japanese.

 

_ ‘Landlord - _

 

_ I took care of the bullies for you. Your father wants you to do your homework. Your body isn’t hurt, don’t worry.’ _

 

There was no signature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the shorter than normal chapter, but i felt this was a good ending point. next chapter, we'll skip ahead to the event mentioned in bakura's backstory chapter of zero.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're getting there

He managed to get halfway through his algebra homework when his dad suddenly opened the door to the office, scaring the crap out of him. The note was still up on the screen, as Ryou hadn’t closed it out yet, intending to read over it again once his homework was done. “Ryou, I need to talk to you. Follow me to the kitchen, please,” his father said, voice tense.

 

Ryou nodded, standing up and following him out. He sat down at the table, stiffening slightly when his dad sat down across from him. “Is.....Is there something wrong?” he asked. Rintaro sighed heavily, folding his hands.

 

“Ryou, what happened to your hand?” he asked. Ryou blinked, not expecting that to be the first question his dad asked. He looked down at his hands, eyes widening when he noticed the split skin and bruised knuckles. He covered his hand self-consciously, looking away from his dad.

 

“I don’t know. I don’t remember,” he said, frowning. Rintaro sighed again, shaking his head.

 

“Fine. Tell me or don’t, I don’t care. If you don’t remember how your hand got hurt, surely you remember getting in a fight today?” he asked. Ryou stiffened, paling.

 

“I didn’t get in a fight,” he said slowly, but the guilt still shone in his eyes. Rintaro gave him a flat, unimpressed look, causing Ryou to squirm in his seat. “I didn’t! I tried to stop these bullies from picking on a fr—a classmate, and I blacked out after one of them hit me. I don’t remember hitting back, and I don’t remember getting home,” he explained. Rintaro raised an eyebrow, and Ryou flushed with anger and frustration. “That’s the truth! I swear I didn’t get into any fights!” he snapped.

 

“Don’t yell at me!” Rintaro snapped, slamming his hands down against the table. Ryou jumped, nodding frantically. Rintaro took a second to recompose himself, before speaking again. “Ryou, this is getting out of hand. Your behavior incidents are getting ridiculous.” Ryou scowled, but Rintaro held a hand up. “No, shut up! I’m not done speaking yet!” he snapped. Ryou nodded sullenly, crossing his arms. “The show and tell in third grade. Getting suspended for threatening another student in fifth grade. The fights. This is getting ridiculous, Ryou. I’m not sure what I’m doing wrong, but I want to help you!” he said, exasperated.

 

“Maybe you  _ can’t  _ help me!” Ryou snapped, clenching his fists. Rintaro glared, but Ryou cut him off. “I let you talk, now you let  _ me  _ talk!” he spat. The blackness was creeping up again, but he stubbornly held onto consciousness. “Maybe you can’t help me, because there’s nothing  _ wrong  _ with me! I didn’t terrorize those kids. I didn’t threaten that boy. I’m not getting in any fights!” he snarled. Rintaro looked pointedly at Ryou’s hand, and he grit his teeth. “I already  _ told  _ you, I don’t remember how I got hurt! All I remember is that asshole punching me and then I blacked out! You’d think you would be more concerned about me getting  _ punched  _ than you are about me  _ possibly  _ punching somebody else!” he snapped, tears of frustration welling up in his eyes.

 

He pushed back violently from the table, storming out of the room. He ignored his father calling after him, scooping up his homework and backpack from the office and heading for the front door, pulling on his shoes as he went. “Ryou! Get your ass back here, we aren’t done yet!” Rintaro yelled, but Ryou just ignored him. “Ryou!”

 

He looked back, eyes cold and face damp. “I’m going to Andrew’s. I’ll come back when we  _ both  _ calm down,” he said, tone frosty. He didn’t wait for an answer, instead just walking out and resisting the urge to slam the door behind him.

 

He stormed down the street, scrubbing the tears on his face away with the sleeve of his sweater. He hated arguing with his dad, hated how he always made  _ Ryou  _ out to be the one in the wrong. He didn’t even  _ do  _ anything! He scowled down at the Ring, tracing a finger absently over the grooves in the metal. A teardrop fell on the ring, making it look like the golden artifact was crying too.

 

He chuckled wetly, shaking his head. “I’m so stupid......” he muttered. “Maybe there really  _ is  _ something wrong with me. My closest friend is a hunk of metal, my dad hates me, and everywhere I go misfortune follows.” He sniffled quietly, shivering slightly as the chill of the winter air sunk through his flushed skin. “Why can’t I just be  _ normal?”  _

 

He sighed heavily, watching the sky as his feet took him down the familiar path to Andrew’s house. The clouds were grey and heavy, reminding him of their house in London, the one they’d lived in before his parents divorced. The tears flowed faster as he turned onto Andrew’s street, freezing to his face and making wiping them away a futile endeavor.

 

By time he actually rang the doorbell, he was a mess. His face was red and his eyes bloodshot, hair falling out of its low ponytail and sticking to his face, and he felt like a wet rag, wrung out and hung to dry. Andrew’s older brother opened the door, raising an eyebrow when he saw Ryou’s state. “Ryou?” he asked. Ryou smiled weakly.

 

“Um....hi, Rob. Can....Can I come in? I need to talk to Andrew.....” he said softly. Rob nodded slowly, stepping aside and letting Ryou inside.

 

“He’s in his room. You know the way, right?” he asked. Ryou nodded, taking his shoes off and setting them on the rack by the door.

 

“Yes, thank you. Sorry for the intrusion....” he said, nodding to Rob before quickly heading upstairs, socked feet skidding on the hardwood floor. He knocked frantically on Andrew’s door, feeling the tears starting to come back.

 

“Yeah? Come in!” Andrew called, voice distant. Ryou opened the door, poking his head in.

 

“.......Andrew?” he said softly, voice hitching. Andrew turned, eyes widening.

 

“Ryou?! Holy crap, what happened?! You look like shit!” he yelped, rushing Ryou inside and closing the door behind him. He settled Ryou on the bed, rummaging under his bed and pulling out a small first aid kit. Ryou winced as the adrenaline and mental fog wore off, sliding his backpack off his shoulders and massaging his ribs.

 

“I.....I’m not entirely sure,” he said softly. “I......Promise you won’t judge me? The story is.....kind of long, and pretty crazy.....” he said. Andrew looked up at him and nodded seriously, holding Ryou’s hand gently and dabbing antiseptic on the split knuckles.

 

“Dude, I won’t make fun of you. I just want you to be okay,” he promised. Ryou smiled slightly, letting out a deep breath and taking out his hair tie with his free hand, pushing his bangs back from his face.

 

“Okay. I....I guess it started when I was nine, when I found a dead squirrel on the side of the road....”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is definitely gonna be longer than zero btw, since i gotta make an entire new backstory for ryou.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this is so late y'all

Ryou talked for a long time, until his voice went hoarse. Andrew had wrapped his hand in gauze a while ago, and had instead relocated to the bed. Ryou explained about the blackouts, the memory loss, the moving, everything that had happened.

 

“And....that’s it, I guess. I’m....Andrew, I’m  _ scared.  _ I don’t know what’s wrong with me.....Am I just going crazy?” he asked, looking over at his friend with wide, pleading eyes. Andrew pulled Ryou into a hug, rubbing his back gently.

 

“I don’t think you’re crazy, Ryou. At least, not the dangerous kind of crazy. If I’m being honest.....I’ve already known about the blackouts,” he said. Ryou stiffened, shooting up.

 

“Y-you did?! Then, why didn’t you say anything?!” he snapped. Andrew held up his hands defensively, eyes wide.

 

“Woah, Ryou, calm down! I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to scare you! How d’you think you would’ve reacted if I told you I’ve met another personality of yours?!” he said, trying to calm Ryou down.

 

That made him pause. “Another.....personality?” he asked, confused. Andrew nodded. “What do you mean?”

 

Andrew sighed, drumming his fingers on his knee as he tried to figure out how best to explain. “A few weeks ago, you weren’t in school. I went to your house after to check if you were okay. Nobody was there, I think your father was at work....” He frowned, chewing his lip thoughtfully. “Anyway, I went up to your room, but....you weren’t there. Instead, a different you was there. He looked like you, and he sounded like you, but he  _ wasn’t  _ you. He called himself Bakura,” Andrew finished. Ryou’s eyes widened, and he brushed his fingers against the Ring gently.

 

If what Andrew was saying was true, then.....there might truly be a spirit in his Ring. His fear of the blackouts trumped by his overwhelming curiosity, he turned to Andrew with a sly smile on his lips. “Hey, Andrew..... Do you still have that ouija board I left here?”

 

\--

 

It turns out, Andrew didn’t. His mother had found it and thrown it out, after giving him an hour-long lecture about the dangers of inviting spirits into a home. Ryou had gotten the lecture too, but he’d brushed it off. Apparently, his dad  _ wasn’t  _ just paranoid.

 

Still though, that meant he couldn’t talk to the ghost. Even so, he wouldn’t give up. Maybe he couldn’t talk to it using conventional methods, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t talk to it. So, rather than staying with Andrew, he decided to bite the bullet. Maybe his father wasn’t mad anymore?

 

He said his goodbyes to Andrew, beginning the long walk home. On the way back to his apartment, he ran into the boy from earlier, though his eyes were hazel now. Ryou frowned, shaking his head. What a strange kid.....

 

He kicked a rock, watching it skitter across the sidewalk as he passed the main office. He was stalling now, but he really didn’t want to go back. Not when his dad might still be upset. But his curiosity over the note won out, and he tried the handle. Unlocked. Not a good sign.

 

He opened the door carefully, peering inside. “Dad?” he called, frowning. Silence answered. He crept inside, closing the door behind him. He kicked his shoes off, cautiously creeping further into the apartment. Nothing.

 

.........Had he been left behind again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ik it's short, i'm swamped with stuff and writing is hard. next chapter is probably gonna be a timeskip


End file.
